Drumroll, Please
by serafina67
Summary: Q: What do you get when you take a Big Time Rush's new badass female drummer, BTR's pretty boy, James, and a scheme involving fake dating in Hollywood? A: The time of their lives! READ and Review! J/OC
1. Chapter 1: New Girl

**A/N: Yo! What up?**

**I'm not sure who or what is responsible for this story, but I hope you like it. I wanted to do something kind of centered on all of the guys, especially James, so I am.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OC. **

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><p><em>Bang a drum, bang it loudly<br>Or as soft as you need  
>But as long as my heart<br>Keeps on banging, I've got a reason to believe_

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><p>"Sorry, we're full. Our maximum capacity has been reached." That was what the man behind the check-in counter at the Palm Woods had said. Frankie didn't understand how a building that big could be completely filled up. That was something you might hear in, say, an elevator. Frankie sighed and pulled out her phone. She turned around for some privacy, bumping into someone in the process.<p>

Frankie looked up at a guy clad in denim, flannel, and gray Vans. He smiled shyly, backing up so she could have some space. He was attractive, but that was anticipated in LA. He had warm hazel eyes flecked with other colors. It was a beautiful combination. He was pretty tall, with golden hair and unkempt eyebrows. Frankie immediately decided that she like the eyebrows. They gave him character.

"Are you checking in?" he asked, pointing to the desk. Mr. Bitters chewed on his fingernail, clearly uninterested in this conversation. "I'm Kendall, by the way."

"Uh, no. I guess not. But nice to meet you, Kendall," Frankie smiled half-heartedly, shaking Kendall's hand. "Apparently, all the rooms are occupied right now. I guess I'll just have to find another hotel to stay at."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Kendall exclaimed, stopping Frankie with a hand to her shoulder. "Maybe you can stay with me." Frankie gave him a funny look, so he explained himself. "I live with three other guys, my little sis, and my mom. I'm sure it's big enough for you, too."

"You live with three other guys?" Frankie asked incredulously. "Have the rooms been filled up for a while or what?"

"Not exactly," Kendall laughed, "I'm in a band with them. It's called Big Time Rush… have you heard of us?" Frankie's eyes widened and lit up, and she put a hand over her mouth.

"Wait, do you work at Rocque Records?" Frankie asked, gripping her phone a little tighter. "I'm supposed to go there to be the replacement drummer. It's probably for your band! This was the closest place to the building, so I came here as soon as I could, but I didn't know the band actually lived here. What a coincidence." Scout put her hands on her hips. "What was that about a place to stay?"

"Oh, you don't want to shack up with the hockey-heads," Mr. Bitters said, shaking his head. He had somehow conjured up a bowl of chips slathered in cheese dust and he was attempting to suck it off of his chubby fingers. Frankie wrinkled her nose, averting her eyes. "They're practically the dictionary definition of trouble."

"That's not true," Kendall said, making a 'pfft' noise. It was obvious that Kendall knew that they were. "We're not _that _bad. Don't listen to him, Frankie." Scout raised an eyebrow, a skill she had perfected almost a year ago. She really didn't care. She liked trouble and this Kendall guy seemed pretty cool…

"I'm a fan of hockey, so I don't mind," Frankie said, smiling smugly at Mr. Bitters. He just shrugged and buried his face in his food.

"It's your funeral," he finally said. Frankie grinned and picked up her black metal suitcase.

"Don't worry. I'm not planning on dying anytime soon, but thanks for the concern," Frankie stated. "If it's okay with your mom and your roomies, I'd love to stay with the band I'm drumming for. That'll be very convenient." Kendall nodded, and they took the elevator upstairs together. He gestured to her solitary piece of luggage.

"Didn't you bring anything else?" Kendall asked.

"Yeah, the rest is in my truck," Frankie replied smoothly. "My drums are in there too." Kendall smiled and unlocked the door to his apartment, room 2J.

"A chick that plays drums _and_ drives a truck," Kendall relayed. "That's pretty impressive." He pushed open the door and unveiled a nicer than normal apartment room. There was a sick swirly slide, a sweet orange couch, and a dome hockey set. Another three guys were playing with it, shaking the dome with excitement.

"This place is totally decked out," Frankie complimented, taking in all the sights. Kendall muttered something about how it had looked like a piece of crap when they'd found it. He whistled to get the rest of BTR's attention. Their heads snapped up and their gazes landed upon Frankie, who awkwardly saluted them with a wave of her hand.

"Uh, guys, this is Frankie… what is your last name?" Kendall turned to her again.

"Foster."

"As I was saying, this is Frankie Foster," Kendall continued. "She's the replacement drummer Gustavo was blabbing about yesterday." He rotated his torso so he faced Frankie. "We kind of expected a dude." Frankie shrugged.

"With a name like mine, you could really go either way," Frankie admitted.

"Anyway, there are no unoccupied rooms here at the moment, so I suggested that she stay with us. What do you guys think? All in favor say aye."

"Aye," the three boys said together. Frankie smiled. They had no idea what she was like, but they were inviting her in just like that. What if she were some psycho fan girl?

The one with a clean cut look and pointed tips in his hair stepped forward and held out his hand. Frankie took it and shook.

"I'm Logan Mitchell," he said. He had a dimple in each cheek and an appealing personality. "Welcome to the Palm Woods. And our band, of course." He nudged the guy next to him. He was cute with dark hair, tan features, and an innocent smile. He greeted Frankie politely, not taking his eyes off her to even blink. His name was Carlos.

The last one of them leaned towards Frankie and beamed at her. His teeth were almost blinding. He had long, caramel colored hair and he was wearing a black tank top that showed off his toned arms and chest.

"I'm James Diamond, the face of the band," he said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, beautiful." And then he kissed her hand. He actually friggin' kissed her hand. Did guys even do that anymore? He was obviously trying to be flirty, and boy, was he good at it! Frankie pulled her hand away and smiled back. The others rolled their eyes, saying something about "the Diamond Charm". He was probably like that with all the girls he met. Frankie didn't really pride herself on looks. She actually had substance. Like her ability to play the drums.

Little did she know, the guys thought she was kinda cute. She looked a few years younger then them, with her big brown eyes that had folds under them that made it look like she was always squinting and pretty peach lips. She was small, about five foot six, and she had a fit body and a tiny waist. Her hair was partially covered by a furry trapper hat and she wore a loose white t-shirt with Tom and Jerry on it. And she had a cool name.

"What are you guys staring at?" Frankie asked. She looked behind her, but she didn't see anything that significant.

"Hey, Frankie, how old are you?" Logan asked, purposefully changing the subject.

"I'm seventeen, but I'll be eighteen soon," she divulged. "And you guys?"

"We're all twenty-one," James replied, smiling devilishly. His tongue ran over his bottom lip and Frankie gulped nervously. He was kind of intimidating in the way he thought so highly of himself. But you couldn't deny that he was hot.

"Um, Kendall, shouldn't I talk to your mom?" Frankie inquired, moving away from James. "We have to get her permission. Like, now." She sidled up next to him, desperate to get away from James.

"Sure," Kendall said, smiling a little. He could tell that James made Frankie a little timid. He lowered his voice. "James is kind of a player, just so you know. He's gotten to almost every girl here, and most of them don't regret it."

"I was kind of getting that vibe from him," Frankie whispered. She glanced behind her to take a peek at James again and he caught her staring. He flashed her another smile and, this time, she rolled her eyes. He must've figured she was playing hard to get because he winked back at her.

"I'm ready to meet your mom," Frankie declared, "Let's go." Kendall agreed and led the way to his kitchen. Inside, a woman was reading out of a magazine while stirring something in a pot. Every so often, she tasted whatever the substance was and made a face. A little girl was leaning against the silver refrigerator, playing a game on a device. She glanced up briefly, noticed the mystery girl next to Kendall, and then went back to her console.

"Uh, Mom?" Kendall asked, tapping on his mother's shoulder. She turned to him and saw Frankie beside him. "This is our band's new drummer, Frankie Foster. She needs somewhere to stay near Rocque Records. All of the rooms here are filled up, so I wanted to know if she can stay here."

"Just until a room opens up," Frankie added quickly, "Then I'll be out of your hair. If that's okay." Mrs. Knight put down her wooden spoon and smiled in that loving, motherly way.

"Don't be silly," she said, putting a hand on Frankie's arm, "Stay as long as you need to. Katie, do you mind Frankie rooming with you?"

"Yeah, sure whatever," Katie replied, only half-listening. Frankie laughed, stuffing her hands into her pockets.

"I think I'm gonna like it here."

**A/N: Yeah, I know that was a lame ending. But I really liked writing this. I've been wanting to write a simple fanfic like this for a while, so I did. The name Frankie Foster comes from a character on Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. Awesome cartoon!**


	2. Chapter 2: Karma's A Bitch

**A/N: It took me a while to figure out that A/N means "Author's Note". Anyway, I hope every is having fun celebrating during the holidays. I'm in a badass chick mood, so I decided to update this story. Thanks for the story alerts and etc.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

**Chapter 2**

"Wake up." Frankie opened her eyes to see Kendall Knight standing over her with a frying pan in hand. She was almost certain that he was going to use it to clap her over the head. Frankie figured that she must have had a freaked-out expression on her face, because he backed away, hiding the skillet behind his back. Frankie raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"This isn't a weapon," Kendall reassured. "I was making omelets. Well, trying. Anyway, we have to head to Rocque Records in a little more than half an hour." Frankie brushed her covers off of her and sat up in her bed. "The bathroom's open for you to take a shower." He lingered for a few seconds, watching Frankie gather her things, but then he left. Frankie looked over to the other side of the room. To her surprise, Katie Knight was still asleep. She'd barely even noticed she was still in bed.

Frankie walked into the hall and came up to the door that hid the bathroom. She tried to turn the doorknob, but the door wouldn't open.

"Who is it?" the voice inside said teasingly. Frankie rolled her eyes. She didn't have to see who was in there to know it was James. The day before, when Frankie had arrived, he'd spent the whole day flirting with her. Normally, she wouldn't mind that. He was hot, for Pete's sake. But James just anticipated that she would adore him. That was a major turnoff.

"James, I was told that I could use the bathroom," Frankie said calmly. She wasn't angered easily, having little brothers and all. "I'll only take a few minutes. My record shower time is two minutes." She sighed loudly when the door didn't budge. She looked to her left and saw Katie had been standing beside her.

"Where did you come from!" Frankie exclaimed. "Ugh, never mind. Can you get James out?" Katie nodded, stepping in front of her.

"Hey James, Logan broke your lucky comb," Katie said, cupping her hands to the door. James snorted from inside.

"I have it right here, Katie," James responded. "I'm done anyway." The knob twisted and the door opened. James was wearing only blue jeans and a belt. There was a towel on his shoulder, but that barely covered his bronze chest and flat stomach. It was difficult not to gawk at someone that good-looking. Even if he _was_ James.

"Having fun?" James asked, snapping Frankie out of her trance. She ignored his comment and marched past him.

"Thanks Katie," Frankie smiled. She closed the door right in James' face, feeling quite satisfactory. Frankie looked at her reflection in the partially fogged up mirror. She cringed at how messed-up she appeared. The ponytail her hair had been was less than impressive and her eyes looked dead. It was amazing how James could flirt with her even when she looked like crap.

She stripped herself of her clothes and stepped into the shower. It was more of a stall, like the ones in the school locker rooms. As the warm water hit her body, she suddenly worried about what Gustavo Rocque would think of her. She'd lied and told him that she was twenty-one over the phone because he didn't believe a young drummer could be serious about the job. Frankie frowned. Did she even look twenty-one?

Frankie stepped out of the kind-of tub and wrapped a towel around herself. She shook out her dark hair. The wet strands came down on her shoulders as she finger-combed them. It still looked a little damp, so she wrung it out the best she could. She brought it into a chignon. It still looked wrong to Frankie. She grabbed the drumsticks from her pile of clothes and stuck them into the bun. Perfect.

Afterwards, she put on a crisp, white button down shirt and dark, worn shorts. Her suspenders hung by the sides of her bare thighs. The tie hanging from her neck didn't fit her at all. Frankie pulled it off and made it into a make-shift scarf. She grinned at her reflection and got out of the bathroom. She dropped off her pajamas onto her mattress in Katie's room and spotted her plaid trapper hat. Should she bring it? She held it in her hands, cocking her head while debating this. It wasn't exactly a professional piece of clothing. But then again, neither was she.

Frankie strapped on a pair of too-small Doc Martens before heading to the kitchen. She expected hustling and bustling, but everyone seemed to be taking their time. Frankie liked that. She was pretty laid-back.

"Where's your mom?" Frankie asked Katie. Katie held up a finger, signaling her to wait. She swallowed the bagel she'd taken a bite out of and took a swig of her orange juice.

"We don't wake her up this early in the morning," she replied. "She gets feisty." Frankie smirked and sat down next to her. The boys were all leaning up against the kitchen island stuffing their faces in toaster waffles. Katie rolled her eyes. _Boys._

"Nice scarf," Carlos said to Frankie in approval. "The hat's cool, too." Frankie smiled back and started to butter up a piece overdone toast.

"I can do better," James pointed out. Kendall jammed an elbow into his ribs to shut him up.

"That's real big talk coming from the boy in ladies' jeans," Frankie laughed. James eyes widened as he looked from Frankie to his pants. He stuffed his plate into Logan's arms and speed-walked towards Frankie, pointing a finger at her. Frankie gave him her most challenging look.

"These are men's skinny jeans," James argued. He moved closer to Frankie, making him seem even taller than he was. He wiggled his hips in a way that was probably meant to be alluring. "You know you love it." Kendall stepped into thin space separating the two, putting a hand on James' chest.

"We should be going now," Kendall said through gritted teeth. James shrugged and followed Logan and Carlos out of the kitchen. Frankie gave him a look.

"I can handle myself, Kendall," Frankie said. "Katie, when we get back, I'd love it if you could show me around the Palm Woods. All that unpacking yesterday left no time for anything." Katie nodded and said goodbye to Kendall. Frankie and he trailed behind the rest of Big Time Rush, who had just broken into a full-on debate over something trivial.

"You ready to meet the great Gustavo Rocque?" Kendall asked. Frankie bit her lip and tugged on one of the pom-poms on her purple trapper hat.

"As long as you guys can pretend I'm twenty-one," she murmured. Kendall frowned, his bushy eyebrows coming together in confusion. "Never mind. I'll explain in the car."

**BTRBTRBTRBTR**

Frankie stood uncomfortably in the middle of Gustavo Rocque's office. It wouldn't have been so awkward if he would stop staring at her with his little, beady eyes. She gave Logan a questioning glance, but he just shrugged.

"So you're Francesca," Gustavo finally observed, breaking the silence. James snickered from his position next to Kelly Wainwright. Frankie shot him a murderous look. He batted his eyelashes in a seductive way that caused shivers to race from Frankie's left earlobe to her right pinky toe. _Damn her teenage girl hormones_.

"It's Frankie," she corrected. She was pretty sure she'd pointed this out in their phone conversation. Francesca was what her mom called her when she avoided doing her chores.

"Right," Gustavo grumbled, slipping on a pair of shades. "You'll meet the other background players later. I already have your drumming samples, so that's done." He tilted his head to the side and stroked his hairless chin. "But you're not as horrible-looking as I thought you'd be."

Frankie gave him a tight smile and tried to take this as a compliment. Maybe she could've worn some makeup. That is, if she knew how to apply it correctly.

"I have big plans for you," Gustavo continued. He crossed his meaty arms and pursed his lips. He turned to his assistant, who immediately took her phone out of her pocket. "Kelly, schedule a photo shoot for her for next week." Frankie was confounded. If she wasn't actually a part of Big Time Rush, why did she need pictures taken of her? She started to ask, but Gustavo interrupted her.

"Dogs, into the recording booth." They did as they were told with no objections. Gustavo told Frankie to head into the back with the rest of the musicians. Most of them were much older than her. They waved politely as she settled into her seat in the rear. She saluted them in a friendly way before picking up her drum sticks. Frankie marveled at the wicked drum set she was allowed to use. It was gold, flecked with lots of different colors that rained down the sides like confetti.

Frankie placed the drum tabs for the song BTR was going to sing in front of her, examining them several times. The guitarist and bass player began to strum and the keyboardist joined in a few seconds after. Frankie nervously counted the beats in her head, waiting patiently for her part to come in.

As soon as she was given her cue, she started pounding the cymbals and let the melody penetrate into her. Her hat's pom-poms was probably flying and her arms were probably flailing. But Frankie didn't care. She rocked, and that was all that mattered. The song slowly came to an end and Frankie raised her head. Everyone was quiet until Carlos started applauding.

"Thanks, Carlos," Frankie laughed. Gustavo didn't give her any feedback. He told the band to progress into their next song. They recorded six more tracks for the album, which took about two hours. Some songs had to be redone or changed because Gustavo didn't settle for average. He wanted perfection. In the middle of another song, Gustavo told everyone to stop.

"STOP!" Gustavo hollered. Frankie flinched, dropping her drumsticks in the process. "Musicians, you can leave. Except you, Frankie." Frankie peered up at Kendall for help. Was she being fired?

"I wanna talk to you in my office," Mr. Rocque said, glaring at Frankie. She tentatively stood up and followed him out of the studio. As soon as they were out of the room, Big Time Rush raced to the office door to listen in. Carlos pressed his ear against the solid wood. He scowled when he heard nothing.

Inside, Frankie had sat down in the not-so-comfortable chair in front of Gustavo's desk. She observed that her seat was several inches shorter than Gustavo's, giving him a superiority complex. He wasn't saying anything, just writing something down on a half-sheet of decorated paper. Frankie couldn't tell what it was, but something was telling her it wasn't anything good. She jumped up and landed on her knees. Gustavo dropped his pen in surprise.

"Please don't fire me, Mr. Rocque!" Frankie exclaimed desperately. She clasped her hands in front of her chest. "I can do better, I swear! Don't send me back to Michagan!" Frankie stopped abruptly when Gustavo handed over the paper he'd been writing on. Her eyebrows came together in confusion and she took the slip, bringing it closer to her eyes.

"This is a check," Frankie said, as if he didn't know. Gustavo rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

"Are you done stating the obvious?"

"But I—I thought-"

"I know what you thought," Gustavo interrupted, his expression softening, "And that was stupid. You're talented, and doubting yourself shows weakness. No one who works for _the_ Gustavo Rocque is a weakling. Now read the check." Frankie did as she was told.

"This says two thousand bucks," Frankie said, figuring it was mistake.

"Again, are you done stating the obvious?" Frankie's eyes widened with realization. She clutched the check in her hands and began to jump up and down. She couldn't help it. This was definitely a pleasant surprise. Gustavo just barely smiled (but he still smiled!) before his face muscles succumbed and went back to his signature scowled.

"I have big plans for you, Frankie, don't forget that," Gustavo deadpanned. "Remember the photo shoot for next week. And take off that silly hat. It's not professional." Frankie grinned mischievously and pocketed the check.

"_I'm_ not professional," Frankie pointed out. She opened the office door and all four members of Big Time Rush fell into the room. They smiled sheepishly and Gustavo just rolled his eyes.

**Frankie's POV**

We took a limo back to the Palm Woods. I kinda freaked because that was first limo ride. Like, ever. It was amazing! But I had to sit next to James, who wouldn't stop harassing me.

Mrs. Knight was awake when we stepped into 2J. We had to come through the back because a limo in the front of the hotel would attract attention, so I still hadn't gotten to introduce myself to any residents. Everyone was heading to the pool, but Kendall's mom suggested that I check in with my mom. The two of them had really bonded like crazy. Probably because they were both single mothers with children. Mrs. Knight almost convinced her to come, but I managed to fix that. That could've been a nightmare (No offense, Ma!)

I lied down on my bed next to Katie's and dialed my house number. My mom's voice entered my left ear. "This is Frankie. I just want you to know that I just made two grand today. Isn't that awesome?"

"That's great, honey," she answered. Her voice was muffled and I could hear my little brothers screaming something in the background. I felt a little sorry for my mother, having to stay home with them all day. But she had friends from her book club almost every night, so the guilt passed. "You're putting that money away for college, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," I mumbled. The visions of furry trapper hats and new drum sets dissipated.

"So tell me about those boys you live with," mom said, gossip taking over brain. I rolled my eyes. Instead of telling me to stay away from boys, my mom always took every chance that she could to urge me to date.

"Well, there's Kendall," I replied, "He's the first one of them I met and he's really nice. He's a big fan of hockey, like the rest of them, but it's his true love. Logan is a braniac, but in a good way. You'd like him. Carlos is a giant ball of energy and he's super fun. He had me laughing all yesterday. Oh, and there's Katie, Kendall's little sister. She's so chill." I refrained from telling her about James. He didn't deserve to be included in our phone convo.

"I heard there was one more boy," my mom said. I groaned. Did Mrs. Knight have to tell my mother everything?

"His name is James," I admitted. I lowered my voice even though no one was listening to me. "He's a total jerk and a narcissist." I didn't add that he kept trying to flirt with me for some reason. I guess I don't want my mom to get all, you know, motherly.

"That's too bad," mom said. "But all the others sound delightful. Oh! Jimmy, don't pull Carey's hair! Sorry, Frankie. Gotta g-"

I smiled and placed my phone onto my bed. I didn't miss her brothers _at all_. I changed out of the clothes I was wearing and into a navy blue string bikini. I pulled a pair cutoff cargo shorts with loads of zippers over the boy shorts. On top, I wore a sheer gray t-shirt that had to be at least four years old. I hurriedly fixed my drumstick bun and zipped up my black gladiator sandals.

I jumped when I saw James lurking by the front door of the apartment. He was only wearing a pair of board shorts that were hanging awfully low on his hips. I noted his six-pack and then mentally kicked myself for noting the six-pack. Then I noted his pecs and mentally punched myself. I might've gone and noted his biceps, but he was already doing that himself. I fought the urge of even rolling my eyes at him. In a weird way, he still found satisfaction in that.

"I hope what you're seeing pleases you." _He was so pretty…until he opened his mouth._

"What do you want?" I sneered.

"I wanted to be the first one to see you in a bikini, but unfortunately, you're all covered up. Want me to fix that?" He reached for the hem of my shirt and I sprung away from him.

"You're such a pig," I muttered, sneaking under one of his muscly arms and into the lobby. He followed me there, of course. As I stood in line for smoothie, pulling my wallet out of my front pocket, James remained beside me. The boy was relentless.

"Is it your sole mission to make every chick fall in love with you?" I snapped, suddenly feeling very angry at the person taking their sweet time ordering their drink.

"Yeah," James replied with absolutely no shame. "It usually doesn't take any effort." The dude in front of us finally finished and I sighed in relief. I asked for strawberry; James did the same.

"We're not together," I stated. "You can wait your turn, like everyone else. It's not like you're more special than anyone else here." If that comment had hit him hard, he certainly didn't show it.

"And you are?"

"I never said I was."

"You implied it." I was silent after that. James smiled at my lack of a comeback. "You know, I just don't understand why you aren't into me. I mean, you're bitchy, but you're also bangable." I wanted to show James another meaning of the word "bangable". It involved his head and anything that could crack it.

"That sentence made absolutely no sense," I said. "Since when does being an attractive girl cause you to be affected by the Diamond Charm?" I took my strawberry smoothie from the guy and handed him a few crumpled bills. All of James dollars were crisp and new. _Figures_.

"Since always," James scoffed, as if even asking that question was idiotic. "Seriously, what is it about me that's such a turn-off?" I studied the bemused expression that had painted his face. It was actually sad that he had no idea what his flaws were.

"Well, you spend more time looking in the mirror in an hour than I do in a year," I started. James picked up a straw from the stand and calmly sucked on his smoothie. "You use words like "bangable", you're always so impressed with yourself, and your ego's bigger than Gustavo." James cocked his head as a smirk tickled his lips. I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows in a "_you-want-me-to-go-on?" _sort of way.

"And those are bad things?" James laughed. The laugh resonated in my head. It was loud and annoying, just like him. It made me so peeved, and I could feel something in my brain snapping. On impulse, I unscrewed the sip-top cap of my smoothie and emptied it on James' precious hair. James let out a high-pitched shriek as the pink goop cascaded down the sides of his head. A chunk of mushy strawberry fell onto James' shoulder. James' playfulness had gone, and it had been replaced by a look of pure hatred. And I hated to admit it, but I actually felt threatened.

James reached up and wiped some of my drink off of his face. He shook out his stained hand, causing the stuff to fly everywhere.

"You know, Frankie," James said, lowering his voice and coming closer to my face. He smelled like strawberry and Cuda man spray. "Karma's a bitch."

Boy, was that the truth.


	3. Chapter 3: Let's Get The Party Started

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

**Chapter 3: Let's Get This Party Started**

It was late in the week, and the California sun seemed to be getting hotter. Not that Frankie minded. She loved the summer, minus the bugs and sweat. She wiped her newly wet forehead and stood back, admiring her bright yellow pickup truck.

She'd just finished bedazzling each side, making the vehicle look pretty snazzy. She turned when she heard footsteps on the scorching gravel. She smiled when she saw Logan and Kendall with her in the Palm Woods parking lot.

They paused in front of her cars and Frankie smirked at their reactions. "What do you think, boys?" Kendall scratched the back of his head, trying to come up with a reply. Logan's mouth opened but then closed, thinking better of it.

"I thought you said you were getting a new paint job," Logan finally said. Frankie hoisted herself up into the bed of her truck and sat down.

"I changed my mind. Besides, this is way better." Frankie wasn't sure if it was legal to drive a bedazzled truck in the streets of Los Angeles, but a ticket would be worth it. She'd spent over an hour trying to get the sequins to stick. "So what's up?" She dangled her legs off the edge of the truck.

"Lucy's having a party," Kendall said.

Frankie snorted. "No shit, Sherlock." That was pretty much all anyone had ever been talking about for the past few days. Lucy Stone, the Palm Woods rocker, had a new album coming out and she was having a Hollywood release party for her CD at a cool karaoke club. Frankie had met Lucy about two days before, and she thought she was pretty cool. They were like sisters separated at birth.

"..And we just managed to snag you an invite," Logan finished, whipping out a small, fancy looking card from behind his back. Frankie slowly reached for it and stared in awe. She hadn't minded not being invited, being the new girl and all, but now that she was the full effect was taking over.

"Omigosh!" Frankie exclaimed, falling backwards into her truck. She'd just been invited to her first ever Hollywood party. "Oh wow…what am I gonna wear?" Kendall laughed from where he was standing and Frankie realized how ridiculous she must've sounded. Since when did she care what she wore? Hollywood was really starting to get to her…

"It's tomorrow, so Camille and Lucy offered to take you shopping today," Logan continued. "Gustavo got Lucy's manager to OK a performance by BTR, so you'd better get rehearsing. Kelly'll get you the song list."

"Great," Frankie said, grabbing one of Kendall's hands. He helped her down and she wiped her own hands on her shorts afterward. "I'm gonna go ask the girls now. I'll catch up with you guys later." She raced past the boys, eager to get some shopping done.

**BTRBTRBTRBTRBTR**

"So Lucy, is the rest of your band gonna be at the release party?" Frankie asked from inside the changing stall she was in. She struggled pulling up the zipper on the back of one of the zillion outfits she picked up.

"Definitely," Lucy confirmed from the stall in between Camille's and Frankie's. "We're gonna play a few songs before the karaoke starts. Try this on." Lucy tossed a top with tons of splattered paint on it over to Frankie. Frankie looked it over and shook her head.

"It's nice, but not my style. Camille, try this on." Frankie chucked it to stall over and knew Camille caught it when she heard an "Omigod, it's so cute!" Frankie laughed and looked through her pile of mismatched clothing. She frowned when she found nothing that appealed to her, nothing that caught her eye. She wondered why she'd even picked them up in the first place. She pulled on the cargo jacket she'd been wearing and unlocked her stall.

"What do you think?" Camille asked, posing in the outfit she had put together. She had paired the top Lucy had found with a black body-con skirt and Lucy-approved Doc Martens.

"I like it," Lucy said, coming out of her stall. She was clad in a studded leather vest which was on top of an oversized tee that read "RAWK ON!" in bold. Her signature combat boots completed the look. "Why are you wearing what you came here in?"

Frankie crossed her arms. "I can't find anything I'm that into." She turned towards the storefront and gasped. She raced away from the girls and disappeared out of the shop. Lucy frowned and yanked the front door open and widened her eyes.

"What is with you guys?" Camille asked coming out onto the sidewalk with her friends. "Ohh…" All three of them stood in front of the new display that was being put up. The mannequin smiled confidently in the gorgeous dress Frankie was eying.

"I must have it," Frankie said in a monotone voice. She slowly walked towards the window, fogging up the glass. The lady putting up the display wrinkled her nose but didn't say anything.

"Can she buy that?" Lucy asked the young woman, cutting to the chase. The employee glanced tiredly at the girl with red streaks in her hair and nodded. She stepped out of the glass case and told Frankie to follow her. They went to the very back of the store, into a gigantic storage room that housed mounds of clothes.

"We just got this in," the lady said, holding it up to Frankie's tiny frame. "You'll be the first one to wear it." Frankie beamed like an idiot. "Do you wanna try it on? It looks like it fits you, but—''

"No," Frankie interrupted, horrified by the very idea. "I'm sure it fits fine. Let's go checkout."

Back at the Palm Woods, Frankie jumped out Lucy's car and hugged both of the girls for taking her out shopping for her first time in Hollywood.

"Cooties!" Lucy joked, running away from Frankie. Frankie stepped into the hotel and boarded the elevator up to the second floor. She unhooked her necklace and stuck the pendant (her room key) into the keyhole. The turned it and nudged the door open. Then she went to her shared bedroom and dumped her single shopping bag on her mattress. She'd hang up the dress later; she was going to meet Kendall at the Palm Woods Park.

She stepped back into the living after changing into a basketball shorts and Nike high-tops. Frankie inhaled sharply when she saw James sitting on the couch staring at the TV. Where had he come from? She'd managed to avoid James all week, at least as much as you could avoid someone you lived with. James looked up suddenly and Frankie smiled weakly.

"What's up?" she asked softly, stuffing her hands into her pockets. James didn't respond, continuing to silently watch some stupid cartoon. "James, please talk to me. I'm seriously sorry." She pressed her bare toes into the shag carpeting and watched as James slowly turned towards her.

"You're really sorry?" James asked, a smile tickling his extremely pink lips. Frankie walked over and sat down on the couch, a foot or so away from him.

"Yes," Frankie sighed, rolling her eyes.

"If you're really sorry," James said, grinning, "You've got to hang out with me for the entire time at Lucy's party tomorrow." Frankie's arched eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"What good would that do you?" Frankie asked. She put her feet up on the couch and the edge of her sandals grazed James' knee. He didn't move his leg and Frankie assumed he didn't feel it.

"It would be torture for you," James laughed. Frankie found herself grinning.

"So true," she groaned despite the smile on her face. She stood up, heading towards the front door.

"Plus, I might get you to fall for me." James added this as she turned the doorknob. It might have just been Frankie's eyes, but James seemeded almost hopeful. And then the look was gone.

"Doubt it!"

**BTRBTRBTRBTR**

The day after, everyone headed to the studio in the morning, like always. Frankie was beginning to like this habit. When she got into the limousine for their ride home, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She sat up and pulled it out of her back pocket.

"Who's that?" Carlos asked, leaning over. Frankie answered in delight, saying it was her mom. She pressed the touch screen and turned on speakerphone.

"Hey mom," Frankie said, smiling. "What's up? Oh, you're on speakerphone, by the way. Say hi, guys." Logan, Carlos, Kendall, and James greeted the phone enthusiastically.

"Oh, hello," Frankie's mother replied from the other end. "Happy birthday, dear!" Frankie frowned and then her face kind of reddened.

"I totally forgot about that," Frankie giggled. "I'm eighteen!" Kendall hugged her and she surprised herself, returning the friendly embrace. She wasn't much of a touchy-feely person, but all of a sudden, she was eighteen.

"How could you forget your birthday?" Carlos and James asked in chorus. Logan rolled his eyes and pushed both of them over.

"Thank you for that," Frankie laughed, hugging Logan. "I can't wait to celebrate at Lucy's party." Frankie had completely forgotten that her mom was still on the phone with her, until she heard her voice.

"Party? What party?" Frankie groaned and rolled her eyes. "You got invited to a party? Good for you! Will there be drinking? Fight the pressure, Fran—''

Frankie quickly yelled goodbye to her mother and sat on her phone, now thoroughly embarrassed. The limo finally pulled up to the Palm Woods hotel and Frankie quickly exited the car. Back in 2J, Katie told everyone she was heading to the pool, so they changed into their swimwear and followed Kendall's little sister out.

"You guys ready for the most epic party I've ever thrown?" Lucy exclaimed, standing up in her black and gray striped bikini. Lucy always had this mischievous vibe about her that kept the boys listening. She was effortlessly cool.

"I am," Camille responded walking into the pool area and reclaiming her spot. She was wearing a giant pair of Oakley sunglasses and a sheer sundress. She turned towards the guys. "When you see my dress, you will fuh-reak!" Kendall leaned towards Frankie and whispered, "I bet Logan will." Frankie nodded; she was well aware of Logan and Camille's on-and-off relationship.

"You know, I've been here for, like, a week and I still haven't been in the Palm Woods pool," Frankie said, staring at its blue-tinted water longingly. Suddenly, she felt two super soft hands grab her by the shoulders. By the next second, Frankie was in the pool. When she surfaced, she saw that James was the only one smirking like an idiot. She rolled her eyes, secretly amused by his childish behavior.

"You know, I could've drowned," Frankie joked, hoisting her arms onto the pool ledge. James stuck out a helping hand and Frankie accepted it; he pulled her out without any sign of struggle. He was a lot stronger than Frankie had thought.

"That would've been awesome," James grinned, "Next time, I'll make sure there are no witnesses." Frankie punched his arm, hurting her fist in the process.

"Owie," she muttered, nursing her hand dramatically.

"Don't mess with the guns," James advised in all seriousness. Frankie rolled her eyes and jumped into the lawn chair next to Lucy. She was staring at Frankie with an overly curious look on her face.

"What?" Frankie asked innocently, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Lucy stared for a few more seconds and then looked over at James. He was combing his hair with a small comb.

"Never mind," Lucy replied. Then she put her Beats audio headphones back on and brought back the rock and roll.

Nighttime came quickly and everyone was in Camille's apartment getting ready for some karaoke. Frankie made her eyes mysterious by adding killer cat eyes with thick black liner and making smoldering hot smoky eyes. She glossed her lips for the millionth time in front of Camille's bathroom mirror. The doorknob turned and Camille squeezed in. She checked her reflection, fixing a few stray curls.

"Are you gonna take off that trench coat any time soon?" she asked. Frankie was wearing a coat that tied just below her bust and went down to her knees. It was covering the dress she had on.

"My outfit will be revealed to everyone at the party," Frankie responded. "You already know what I'm wearing anyway." Frankie teetered in the stilettos she was forcing herself to wear. There was gonna be a bunch of celebrities and paparazzi around the party, so Frankie had to disguise herself as the age she was claiming to be: twenty-one. That meant looking taller.

Frankie stuffed the hefty gold clutch Kelly had given her full of several packs of gum, her phone, her wallet, and her drumsticks, which she took everywhere. They were her signature.

The limo ride to the party was brief and they arrived at the club around ten o' clock. Frankie marveled at the décor and the famous people and all the food. Lucy was up on the stage, chatting with her band before their performance. Frankie started to walk up and go say hi, but she was stopped by none other than James Diamond.

"Uh-uh-uh," James said, waggling his finger. "You're staying with me." Frankie had forgotten about this, too. What was with her today?

"But it's my birthday!" Frankie whined, stomping in her five-inch Gucci heels. James hooked his arm through hers and shook his head.

"Deal's a deal," James said. Frankie couldn't deny that.

"Fine," she sighed, "Let go of me, I gotta take off my coat." James let go of her and Frankie undid the bow she made with the belt of her trench and pulled off the jacket, finally unveiling the dress she had bought.

Frankie was now clad in a hot pink dress with off-the-shoulder straps made of sexy black lace. Her tanned shoulders were naked and her collarbone was free of any jewelry. The back of the dress dipped down provocatively to the small of her back. On her butt, there was a massive black bow. The slit on the side of the dress traveled up Frankie's leg to her upper thigh.

"That's the girliest thing I've ever seen in my life?" James asked, scanning Frankie up and down…and up and down.

"Don't you have anything positive to say?" Frankie asked, feigning annoyance.

"You look really good," James added, ogling Frankie in a way that made her feel violated, "Seriously. Maybe even better than me."

"Gee, thanks." Frankie yanked up the straps on her dress. "I hate these things. I feel like my dress is just gonna fall off," she confessed.

"I wish it would," James murmured, continuing to stare. Frankie shifted uncomfortably under James' gaze. He was such a pig!

"Hey, Frankie." She turned to see Lucy with a guitar cradled in her arms. It looked expensive. "You wanna do some karaoke with me and the band?"

"Love to," Frankie said quickly, pushing Lucy towards the stage area. Once they were there, Frankie breathed out. "Thanks for saving me."

"What do you mean?"

"James wouldn't stop staring at me," Frankie explained. Lucy grabbed Frankie arm and dragged her to the stage.

"That's normal behavior for James," Lucy said. "Don't be so surprised. Diamond's a total man-whore." Frankie just barely caught the microphone Lucy threw at her. "Just try not to be flattered by anything he says, 'cause he just wants to jump your bones."

"As if he'd want to hook up with me," Frankie said. "So what are we singing?"

"_I Love Rock N' Roll_," Lucy stated, plugging in her amp. "I hope you know it, princess." Frankie took position on the stage.

"Of course I do," Frankie scoffed. "Don't doubt me." Lucy smiled and pointed to Frankie's body.

"Hey, I'm not the one who looks like she was just vomited from a Pretty In Pink prom catalog!"

"I thought you said you liked this!"

"I like the lace. James seems to like it, too."

"Just shut up and play."

Lucy stepped up and introduced the crowd to Frankie, who bowed bashfully. She felt a little weird on the front of the stage instead of in the back on the drums.

Down in the crowd Logan met up with James, who was with Kendall and Carlos.

"We're gonna perform after them," Logan said. He straightened his tie again and adjusted the brown vest the stylists had stuffed him into. "We're singing If I Ruled the World." Kendall looked up at the stage and waved at Lucy. She smiled back at him and flashed him the 'Rock on' hand sign. Then she rested her lips on the microphone in front of her and began to sing.

_I saw him dancin' there by the record machine  
>I knew he must a been about seventeen<br>The beat was goin' strong  
>Playin' my favorite song <em>

Lucy looked over at Frankie with a panicked look on her face that told her it was probably time for her to sing. Frankie opened her mouth a sliver and tried to copy Lucy style.

_An' I could tell it wouldn't be long  
>Till he was with me, yeah me<br>And I could tell it wouldn't be long  
>Till he was with me, yeah me, singin'<em>

Frankie, feeling a little a more confident than before, grabbed the neck of Lucy's microphone stand and sang the chorus of the classic in harmony with her. Lucy looked surprised at first, but then she turned around and swaggered over to the end of the runway-style stage. Frankie followed and pressed her back to Lucy's. She strummed her electric guitar and the crowd whooped.

Lucy jumped on a table below and yelled, "Get up off your rich asses and dance!" Her band transitioned into the next song and Frankie disappeared backstage. She bumped right into Carlos.

"Oh! Sorry," Frankie said, "Are you guys performing now?" When they nodded, Frankie sighed. She had to get back on stage again. She reached down into her cluctch and pulled out her drumsticks.

"You guys rocked," Carlos commented. "You're not a bad singer." Frankie thanked him and sat down in her drum chair. She played her heart out in the performance and gave it her all. When they finished, all four members of BTR had foreheads slicked with sweat. James' cheeks were rosy and his hair was now wet with perspiration.

As everyone went their separate ways after the performance, James left for the open bar and asked for a drink. Frankie trudged after him, unwillingly keeping her promise. The bartender returned with James' order and he swallowed the alcohol greedily.

"You want anything?" James asked. Frankie tapped her fingers against the counter nervously.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to liquor me up," Frankie joked. Her tapping increased in volume until James put his hand over her own. It was warm and surprisingly friendly, but she still jerked away.

"Aw, you're no fun," James said, rolling his eyes, "And you're a wuss." Frankie glared at him and snatched his half empty glass from his hand. She tilted her head back and let the drink glide down her throat. It was bitter and lukewarm. Then she grabbed the lemon slice from off of the edge and tossed it into the hole.

She and James downed many more drinks, competing to see how many drinks each of them could have and still be able to stand up by themselves. Frankie was glad her mother was oblivious to all of this. She would _literally_ murder her.

"You're red lipstick is very tempting," James slurred, putting his finger on Frankie chin and lifting it. Frankie tried to slap it away but missed by several inches.

"You're drunk."

"So are you."

Frankie grabbed him by the ear and took him away from the bar counter, almost tripping over her own feet. Her vision was blurred and she felt…loose. She leaned against a dark window and looked out at the bright moon.

"I think we should get someone to driv—" She stopped talking when James started staring at her lips and began leaning into her. "Whoa, what're you doi—"

James cut her off by pressing his lips against her own. The kiss was sloppy and wet, but Frankie didn't want to pull away. James pressed her against the window pane and put his hand on her dress. It slowly moved to her bare thigh and started to go under the fabric. A bright light flashed in her head like a thousand bulbs exploding and Frankie's mind caught up to her emotions. She pushed James away roughly and pulled down her dress, covering what James had unashamedly uncovered.

"Are you crazy?" Frankie asked, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. The red lipstick she was wearing was now deposited onto it. She looked up to see that James' mouth was also covered in her lipstick. Frankie assumed the kiss was just a result of the alcohol, not because they were attracted to each other.

She groaned and rubbed her temples. She felt a little sick and still very dizzy. She didn't like feeling so disoriented. "Never mind. I'm gonna call Kelly to send a car for us. We'll call the others to tell them we left early. We're too drunk to stick around." James stood in the corner, indifferent.

"And what will you say when they ask why we left?" James slurred. "They're gonna think we hooked up." Frankie blushed at the thought of hooking up with someone like James. She dialed Kelly's number and requested a ride.

"I'll tell them you got sick and took you home," Frankie said hastily. "Let's just get out of here before we collapse." She took hold of James' sleeve, pushing past dancing teenagers and a few celebrities.

Outside, it was a bit chilly. Frankie rubbed her arms up and down. At least the paparazzi didn't think of sneaking to the back of the club. That was one good thing about her night, the only one Frankie could think of. She shivered again, feeling goose bumps start to explode on her bare skin.

"Are you cold?" James asked. He still sounded drunk, so his tone wasn't as concerned as his words reflected.

Frankie peered up at him, squinting her eyes. "No, my teeth just chatter when I'm drunk." Her voice dripped with sarcasm and weariness. James sighed, shedding his leather jacket and putting it one Frankie's shoulders. She adjusted it, accidentally touching James' fingers. "Thanks…"

A small black car pulled up in front of the both of them and Kelly stepped out. "Why are you guys leaving early?"

"I'm feeling kind of nauseous," James replied promptly. "Frankie offered to head home with me." Kelly bought the story and walked back to the driver's seat. The two teenagers sat in the back. Frankie buckled James' seatbelt when he didn't do it himself.

The ride was long and quiet, but it wasn't awkward. Everyone was tired, so no one cared about the lack of sound. Kelly safely pulled into the front of the Palm Woods hotel and dropped the two teenagers off.

"Sorry for disturbing you," Frankie apologized to Kelly. James was starting to slip off of the curb, so Frankie elbowed him and he stood up straight.

Kelly just waved her hand, like it was no big deal. "It's all good. Anything to get away from Gustavo when he's songwriting. I'll see you kids tomorrow morning." Her car sped away and Frankie turned her back to the road. James followed her into the pool area and then laid down in a beach chair.

"Are you coming back to 2J?" Frankie asked.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be there in a sec." He looked like he was about to doze off, but Frankie just shrugged.

The Palm Woods looked different at night. It was empty because everyone was either still at the party or in bed. Even Bitters was gone from his post. It was dark and Frankie found herself bumping into walls and potted plants. The fact that she was intoxicated helped nothing.

In 2J, Frankie stripped of her awesome dress and dumped it into Katie's closet. She changed into a comfy tank top and cozy cotton shorts. She then slipped her feet into her old, now mangled bunny slippers. She was careful not to wake her little roommate or Mrs. Knight as she tip-toed around. When she was all done, she rushed into her bed and closed her eyes.

Her eyes reopened when she realized that James hadn't come in yet. She forced herself away from her soft comforter and marched out of 2J. It wasn't that Frankie was worried about James…she just wanted to know why he wasn't in the apartment. She walked into the pool area and saw James was swimming in the pool.

"Hey," James greeted casually. "You should hop in. The pool has the same effect on a hangover as a shower." Frankie shook her head.

"Yeah, no thanks," Frankie said. James shrugged.

"Your loss." He swam over to the edge of the pool closest to Frankie and climbed out. Frankie's eyes widened and she screamed. She immediately covered her eyes.

"Where are your swimming trunks?" Frankie exclaimed, trying to digest what she'd just witnessed; James Diamond in the freaking buff. He was wearing absolutely nothing.

"I'm sorry, but most people don't shower with clothes on," James said, as if that made any sense. "Jeez, you act like you've never seen a naked person before. Besides, you can't say you don't enjoy this." Frankie gagged dramatically.

"I'm afraid I can," Frankie murmured. She peeked through her fingers and caught a glimpse of James' junk again._ Still_ not covered. "Please put on your pants, please." James laughed and walked closer to Frankie. She backed away from him in reply.

"What, you don't like your birthday present?" James joked, pretending to be upset. Frankie's guffaws could probably be heard from the party. She clutched her sides and her shoulder shook from laughing.

"My birthday present is you in your birthday suit?" Frankie giggled. She wiped the corner of her eye that was tearing up. "My God, do you know how to please a lady!" The both of them cracked up all over again from how ridiculous this was.

Their laughter slowly subsided, but the smiles never left their faces. "Seriously, happy birthday, Frankie." James finally pulled on his jeans, zipping up the fly.

"Thanks," Frankie responded, "Today wasn't too bad overall. The great James Diamond kissed me and bared himself in front of me. Plus I looked pretty sick tonight." She started back into the lobby, but then turned around. "G'night, James."

"G'night." And maybe it was just the alcohol, but Frankie felt like maybe she was beginning not to hate James so much.

**A/N: Ya like? I hope so. I apologize for spelling mistakes and thank the story alerters/favoriters/reviewers. You guys are great :D **


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